Another point to touch on is the very inexpensive labour costs due to high unemployment and very low incomes. Reinhardt’s 4 x 4 needed its exhaust pipe fixed as it had a hole. We took it to the local garage in Scala where the guy spent 2 hours welding the pipe and fitting a metre long length of new chrome tail pipe to the end. Total cost 10 euros or AUD$17. In Germany it would have cost him between 300-400 euros. Needless to say he gets all his vehicle repairs done down in Greece.
Eventually we had to pack and head back to Athens for one more night before flying home.
We arrived back in Athens via the scrap yard terminus and found a cheap room at the Hotel Adams in The Plaka for 40 euros. It was nothing special but it was clean and warm with a share bathroom in the hall. I don’t think there was anyone else staying there as we didn’t see any other guests but this is the delight of travelling outside of the tourist season. After dining at a small taverna that Reinhardt had recommended, extremely inexpensive and tasty, and a Stella Artois beer at a local bar we retired to the hotel. The weather was starting to look ugly.
At about 11.30 pm a thunderstorm struck that was mind blowing. The lightning and thunder was so intense and continued amidst the deluge of rain till 4am. The streets were flooded to several feet deep in the places I could see from the balcony of our room. Mega flashes of lightning were illuminating the Acropolis, which was visible from the balcony also. The columns on top looked strangely sinister in the glaring flashes and I had no doubts that the god’s were not happy at their newest blood brother departing so soon. I made a solemn promise to return one day but only on the condition that I could play god for a while too. What a show of might from the heavens above. No doubt Zeus, with a crazed gleam in his eye, was flinging those lightning bolts down with gusto and wild abandon. The following morning, the streets were oddly clean and fresh having being sluiced with several inches of rain.
The journey to the airport the following day went off without a hitch and we found ourselves back in Frankfurt at 6pm arriving to a chilling 0 degrees. A very cold welcome home after so much sun and warmth. Thomas had thankfully come to collect us so we were back in Darmstadt within an hour of landing. The week after arriving home was a really sharp shock to the system. The temperature didn’t rise above –3 degrees for the first week and often sank as low as –10. Wow talk about true blue. Work has been a lot quieter and the last two weeks have seen most spare time taken up with pre-Christmas parties for work and friends.
I have no idea at this point what is happening for Christmas Day and New Years Eve but I am sure that we will find something as the time draws nigh. We are going to Bettina’s parents place for Boxing Day lunch, which should be nice. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and great New Year. Guten Rutsch as they say here or Good Skating meaning a smooth run in the year ahead.
I will try not to be so long in getting my next blog on the wire but I guess you will all be sick to death of them after this little epic. Ah well, time to go and get this processed for the wire. My special wishes for all of your dreams to come true in the year ahead.
24.12.03
Monemvasia -The Gibraltar Of Greece And Finding Kojak
On another day, we all (including Reinhardt’s brother Ziggy) drove around to Monemvasia, which is an island about 400 meters off the coast from the village of Yephira. Consisting of a solid lump of rock with sheer cliff faces rising 300 meters high to the plateau above and running 1.8 km’s long, it was the site for a wondrous Byzantine fortress settlement. It has been one of the most fought over parts of Greece in its 1500-year life span.
From where it stands all shipping travelling around the Greece coastline was visible and hence its strategic importance was crucial to any one wanting to command the seas and protect the land approaches. It is Greece’s own Rock Of Gibraltar.
I think it has had about 6 different owners in its history with the main ones being Venetians, Turks and most recently of all the Germans during WWII until liberated and placed under US and UK control before being returned to Greece. Goths, Slavs and Avars also had a run here although the not so fortunate such as the Normans of Sicily and the Arabian pirate ships were never able to overcome the fortifications and turned tail and fled. From the top of the rock generals could direct sea battles using mirrors to their ships down below to ward off marauding invaders by out manoeuvring the opposition’s ships. In a time of sail and rowing a galley’s precise manoeuvring was everything. If the cannon balls didn’t get them then the battering rams on the prows of the ship would hole them and send them to the deep six. Not good if you were an oarsman on the galley being chained and manacled to your oar and seat. The rock’s lofty vantage also allowed them to hurl their cannon balls down on the vessels below. The Turks at one point managed to drag cannons up to the hills on the main land during one assault and lobbed cannon fire onto them from 2 miles away. All around the island there are broken pieces of cannon ball casings lying in the undergrowth.
These days it is the foreigners who are rebuilding the “Gibraltar of Greece”. The beauty, the romanticism and the faded glory of this once important strategic location allures tourists in the thousands. In the summer months there is a hydrofoil direct from Athens to Monemvasia. From the entry portal in the Lower Town you can meander along the sea wall bastions and into the narrow little streets with their vaulted shop fronts and cobble stone streets. Everything in the town is quite expensive, particularly the restaurants, as all supplies have to be brought in by donkey from the village of Yephira. They are slowly rebuilding shops and houses in the Lower Town but progress is slow for building materials as well are brought by donkey. It is like stepping back into a bygone era, a dream state where you have to keep pinching yourself (or someone else if they have a cute backside), to believe that it actually exists. I think I was more taken by it all than by the Acropolis probably because it was still functioning and you can see it as it is meant to be and feel the associated vibes.
Every street seems to contain a church, which began life as one religion, was altered to a mosque by the Turks and then renovated back again. Tides of change have washed over this settlement to such a huge extent that it is impossible to ignore it. It is such a strange eclectic mix of so many cultures and periods. As you leave the Lower Town you walk up a cobblestone path that zigzags its way up the face of the cliffs through a variety of stone gateways, these doorways are covered in metal strips and still bearing pock marks from musket balls and other assorted shrapnel chunks. It is the only way to the top with all other approaches being 300 meter high near vertical cliffs. The defences were brutal, with boulders, boiling oil, arrows, spears and cannon fire and the like all raining down on the pathway from above to repel invaders. On some of the gateways, if you made it to the doors, they had small caves recessed in the cliff face so that archers and infantry could fire at you from behind as you tried to break through the doors.
Across the top of this remarkable rock are the ruins of an entire city. At the peak of its existence over 50,000 people lived on the rock. Few buildings remain today. One is the old commanders house with the stairs outside leading up to the top of the battlements, where he would stand on a platform to direct the battle down below, maintaining sweeping views along the whole of the cliff face approach. Another is the Roman garrisons quarters and the other is the Church of Hagia Sophia built in the 13th century perched on the northern cliff top. The church was originally a monastery but after being altered to a mosque by the Turks and the alignment of the transepts made to face east towards Mecca, they then proceeded to give it a domed roof with a crescent moon attached to the spire on top of it. Further changes took place after the Turks were evicted and original stained glass windows taken out by the Turks were replaced and the transepts and alter restored to their former places. The roof remained like some mini version of Saint Paul’s Cathedral minus the crescent moon spire.
It was endlessly fascinating to walk around and Reinhardt, who goes there once a year to take time out when the tourists have all gone home, was able to point out some amazing features. As you can imagine, when the place was under siege for up to years at a time, water was an incredibly valuable commodity. They got around this by using the slopes of natural rock on top bordered by stone and mortar walls to capture rainwater, from where it ran down into gigantic stone cisterns for storage. The town had 3 main cisterns and some had been extended by covering the land around the rock slopes with a plaster mixture. Every household had its own cistern and one member of each family was responsible for the upkeep of it. There was a supervisor who would visit every house on a regular basis to check that the cistern was 100% in order and clean. If anyone was found to not be taking pedantic pains to maintain it, they were dragged out into the street and beheaded in front of the rest of the family. Another member of the family would be nominated to take over and so on. Food was also a major problem and although they maintained vast stores of grain and oil etc. they were reduced on some of the longer sieges to eating the local cats, rats and seabirds. Nothing is wasted here.
All in all it was a magnificent day, even the weather played ball and we had sparkling blue seas, a deep rich azure blue sky and a lot of fun. I took 3 rolls of film as we wandered around and they have turned out to be the best pics of the trip. We spent a total of about 6 hours then went back down to the local village and had a wonderful taverna lunch of fresh seafood and cold Mythos beer. Yummmmm! This was not a siege and there was no cats, rats or seabirds on the menu. Not on this sunny afternoon anyway. If you ever go to Greece, go to Monemvasia. You will never regret it.
After leaving Monemvasia we travelled a little further around the coast to a small fishing village named Jerakas or Xerax. It has the honour of being the hometown of Telly Savalas, Kojak to some, can you dig it pussycat! It all looked remarkably quiet and the only sign of life was an old couple on the front veranda of their cottage, sitting there as Ma gave Pa a haircut. One would have thought that the entire village would have shaved their heads in honour of the town’s own son.
From where it stands all shipping travelling around the Greece coastline was visible and hence its strategic importance was crucial to any one wanting to command the seas and protect the land approaches. It is Greece’s own Rock Of Gibraltar.
I think it has had about 6 different owners in its history with the main ones being Venetians, Turks and most recently of all the Germans during WWII until liberated and placed under US and UK control before being returned to Greece. Goths, Slavs and Avars also had a run here although the not so fortunate such as the Normans of Sicily and the Arabian pirate ships were never able to overcome the fortifications and turned tail and fled. From the top of the rock generals could direct sea battles using mirrors to their ships down below to ward off marauding invaders by out manoeuvring the opposition’s ships. In a time of sail and rowing a galley’s precise manoeuvring was everything. If the cannon balls didn’t get them then the battering rams on the prows of the ship would hole them and send them to the deep six. Not good if you were an oarsman on the galley being chained and manacled to your oar and seat. The rock’s lofty vantage also allowed them to hurl their cannon balls down on the vessels below. The Turks at one point managed to drag cannons up to the hills on the main land during one assault and lobbed cannon fire onto them from 2 miles away. All around the island there are broken pieces of cannon ball casings lying in the undergrowth.
These days it is the foreigners who are rebuilding the “Gibraltar of Greece”. The beauty, the romanticism and the faded glory of this once important strategic location allures tourists in the thousands. In the summer months there is a hydrofoil direct from Athens to Monemvasia. From the entry portal in the Lower Town you can meander along the sea wall bastions and into the narrow little streets with their vaulted shop fronts and cobble stone streets. Everything in the town is quite expensive, particularly the restaurants, as all supplies have to be brought in by donkey from the village of Yephira. They are slowly rebuilding shops and houses in the Lower Town but progress is slow for building materials as well are brought by donkey. It is like stepping back into a bygone era, a dream state where you have to keep pinching yourself (or someone else if they have a cute backside), to believe that it actually exists. I think I was more taken by it all than by the Acropolis probably because it was still functioning and you can see it as it is meant to be and feel the associated vibes.
Every street seems to contain a church, which began life as one religion, was altered to a mosque by the Turks and then renovated back again. Tides of change have washed over this settlement to such a huge extent that it is impossible to ignore it. It is such a strange eclectic mix of so many cultures and periods. As you leave the Lower Town you walk up a cobblestone path that zigzags its way up the face of the cliffs through a variety of stone gateways, these doorways are covered in metal strips and still bearing pock marks from musket balls and other assorted shrapnel chunks. It is the only way to the top with all other approaches being 300 meter high near vertical cliffs. The defences were brutal, with boulders, boiling oil, arrows, spears and cannon fire and the like all raining down on the pathway from above to repel invaders. On some of the gateways, if you made it to the doors, they had small caves recessed in the cliff face so that archers and infantry could fire at you from behind as you tried to break through the doors.
Across the top of this remarkable rock are the ruins of an entire city. At the peak of its existence over 50,000 people lived on the rock. Few buildings remain today. One is the old commanders house with the stairs outside leading up to the top of the battlements, where he would stand on a platform to direct the battle down below, maintaining sweeping views along the whole of the cliff face approach. Another is the Roman garrisons quarters and the other is the Church of Hagia Sophia built in the 13th century perched on the northern cliff top. The church was originally a monastery but after being altered to a mosque by the Turks and the alignment of the transepts made to face east towards Mecca, they then proceeded to give it a domed roof with a crescent moon attached to the spire on top of it. Further changes took place after the Turks were evicted and original stained glass windows taken out by the Turks were replaced and the transepts and alter restored to their former places. The roof remained like some mini version of Saint Paul’s Cathedral minus the crescent moon spire.
It was endlessly fascinating to walk around and Reinhardt, who goes there once a year to take time out when the tourists have all gone home, was able to point out some amazing features. As you can imagine, when the place was under siege for up to years at a time, water was an incredibly valuable commodity. They got around this by using the slopes of natural rock on top bordered by stone and mortar walls to capture rainwater, from where it ran down into gigantic stone cisterns for storage. The town had 3 main cisterns and some had been extended by covering the land around the rock slopes with a plaster mixture. Every household had its own cistern and one member of each family was responsible for the upkeep of it. There was a supervisor who would visit every house on a regular basis to check that the cistern was 100% in order and clean. If anyone was found to not be taking pedantic pains to maintain it, they were dragged out into the street and beheaded in front of the rest of the family. Another member of the family would be nominated to take over and so on. Food was also a major problem and although they maintained vast stores of grain and oil etc. they were reduced on some of the longer sieges to eating the local cats, rats and seabirds. Nothing is wasted here.
All in all it was a magnificent day, even the weather played ball and we had sparkling blue seas, a deep rich azure blue sky and a lot of fun. I took 3 rolls of film as we wandered around and they have turned out to be the best pics of the trip. We spent a total of about 6 hours then went back down to the local village and had a wonderful taverna lunch of fresh seafood and cold Mythos beer. Yummmmm! This was not a siege and there was no cats, rats or seabirds on the menu. Not on this sunny afternoon anyway. If you ever go to Greece, go to Monemvasia. You will never regret it.
After leaving Monemvasia we travelled a little further around the coast to a small fishing village named Jerakas or Xerax. It has the honour of being the hometown of Telly Savalas, Kojak to some, can you dig it pussycat! It all looked remarkably quiet and the only sign of life was an old couple on the front veranda of their cottage, sitting there as Ma gave Pa a haircut. One would have thought that the entire village would have shaved their heads in honour of the town’s own son.
Greek Food
Now to expand my favourite subject, food. Every second night we travelled into one village or another to eat at a variety of tavernas.
When you sit down they spread a paper or plastic tablecloth down and as you eat, chicken bones, olive pips, fish bones what ever, are thrown onto the tabletop. It looks incredibly messy by the end but it is great fun to eat like a barbarian and for it to be publicly acceptable. The food is so tasty and so inexpensive in the country areas with the exception of fish, this is really expensive but more on that later.
Most main courses are sold by weight, so we could sit down order 2 baskets of bread, 2 large Greek salads with big slabs of feta on top and swimming in rich fresh olive oil, 1 kilo of spit roasted pork, 1 kilo of roasted chicken pieces, a large bowl of baked potatoes basted in lemon and oregano, 3 or 4 500ml jugs of the local vino and coffee afterwards for 23 euros total. For four of us it worked out at about AUD$12 each. Only when we decided to try a fish restaurant one night did the bill really hurt as most snapper and better eating fish are around 40 euros per kilo (AUD$70). Almost 25% more than the cost of prime beef in Germany, which is triple the cost of Australian beef. Our six baby snapper with Greek salad and wine cost closer to 60 euros or AUD$30 per person. Almost triple the cost of the other meals but wow, those baby snapper, char grilled were as succulent and tasty as any fish I have ever eaten.
The trouble is that they have fished the Mediterranean almost to the point of extinction. Fresh fish are shipped in by trucks from Norway to Greece (3000km’s) in specially built water tanks to keep them alive on the journey. The lack of larger fish in the sea meant that the sardines could truly thrive. The Japanese picked up on the huge shoals of sardines by satellite and sent in a fishing fleet of ultra large ships and working the international waters through the entire centre of the Mediterranean, they managed to almost wipe out the sardine population in 3½ years. Unbelievable but true.
On a separate night we went to the village of Scala where the town has series of canals flowing through it. Locally it is known as Little Venice but the only gondolas are big fat local geese. Every Saturday night one of the restaurants puts on a couple of spit-roasted sheep marinated in garlic and herbs. We ordered two kilos of meat to go with the dips and salad. Boy was it good. Soooo tasty I just know I am going to have to return one day. It is one of the true delights of Greece to get out of the cities and to eat in the villages with the locals. So relaxed, so easygoing and ever so tasty. The wine is always a bit of surprise because the Greeks insist that this year’s wine is the best. They don’t like to cellar wine so you always get a Riesling style white or a rosé style red in the tavernas and very young ones at that. Retsina is considered a tourist drink and none of the locals will drink it. The joys of being a tourist hey :)
When you sit down they spread a paper or plastic tablecloth down and as you eat, chicken bones, olive pips, fish bones what ever, are thrown onto the tabletop. It looks incredibly messy by the end but it is great fun to eat like a barbarian and for it to be publicly acceptable. The food is so tasty and so inexpensive in the country areas with the exception of fish, this is really expensive but more on that later.
Most main courses are sold by weight, so we could sit down order 2 baskets of bread, 2 large Greek salads with big slabs of feta on top and swimming in rich fresh olive oil, 1 kilo of spit roasted pork, 1 kilo of roasted chicken pieces, a large bowl of baked potatoes basted in lemon and oregano, 3 or 4 500ml jugs of the local vino and coffee afterwards for 23 euros total. For four of us it worked out at about AUD$12 each. Only when we decided to try a fish restaurant one night did the bill really hurt as most snapper and better eating fish are around 40 euros per kilo (AUD$70). Almost 25% more than the cost of prime beef in Germany, which is triple the cost of Australian beef. Our six baby snapper with Greek salad and wine cost closer to 60 euros or AUD$30 per person. Almost triple the cost of the other meals but wow, those baby snapper, char grilled were as succulent and tasty as any fish I have ever eaten.
The trouble is that they have fished the Mediterranean almost to the point of extinction. Fresh fish are shipped in by trucks from Norway to Greece (3000km’s) in specially built water tanks to keep them alive on the journey. The lack of larger fish in the sea meant that the sardines could truly thrive. The Japanese picked up on the huge shoals of sardines by satellite and sent in a fishing fleet of ultra large ships and working the international waters through the entire centre of the Mediterranean, they managed to almost wipe out the sardine population in 3½ years. Unbelievable but true.
On a separate night we went to the village of Scala where the town has series of canals flowing through it. Locally it is known as Little Venice but the only gondolas are big fat local geese. Every Saturday night one of the restaurants puts on a couple of spit-roasted sheep marinated in garlic and herbs. We ordered two kilos of meat to go with the dips and salad. Boy was it good. Soooo tasty I just know I am going to have to return one day. It is one of the true delights of Greece to get out of the cities and to eat in the villages with the locals. So relaxed, so easygoing and ever so tasty. The wine is always a bit of surprise because the Greeks insist that this year’s wine is the best. They don’t like to cellar wine so you always get a Riesling style white or a rosé style red in the tavernas and very young ones at that. Retsina is considered a tourist drink and none of the locals will drink it. The joys of being a tourist hey :)
23.12.03
Ship Ahoy Or Maybe Not
We did a couple of day trips to surrounding coastal areas. On one such day we travelled around to Gythio, which is a quaint little fishing village on the eastern shore of Laconia Bay. We wandered around looking at an old amphitheatre, broken columns and remnants of marble statues. Stopped at one of the taverns for an ouzo and a dish of some fresh sardines marinated in a pool of garlic olive oil. It was superb! It was one of the few days that it rained on our trip but despite that we really enjoyed the short walk around the ancient village with all of its brightly coloured fishing boats bobbing up and down at the quay despite the sullen skies and persistent drizzle.
A bit further around the coast there was a gigantic steel merchant trading ship that had run aground on the beach. Apparently there were two of them stranded there in the same storm, both of them worth many millions of dollars, which gave rise to a theory of insurance fraud. Only one remains as the other vessel was dragged off the beach by the Greek navy shortly afterward, hauled out into the middle of the bay and blown to smithereens for target practice. Nothing is ever wasted here. This took place before the insurance assessors managed to get a look at it. Maybe there’s a Greek admiral with more than a few shares in a local shipping line somewhere and fat insurance policy. Totally bizarre.
A bit further around the coast there was a gigantic steel merchant trading ship that had run aground on the beach. Apparently there were two of them stranded there in the same storm, both of them worth many millions of dollars, which gave rise to a theory of insurance fraud. Only one remains as the other vessel was dragged off the beach by the Greek navy shortly afterward, hauled out into the middle of the bay and blown to smithereens for target practice. Nothing is ever wasted here. This took place before the insurance assessors managed to get a look at it. Maybe there’s a Greek admiral with more than a few shares in a local shipping line somewhere and fat insurance policy. Totally bizarre.
22.12.03
Public Works Greek Style
Greece is also a land where the notion of public works maps simply doesn’t exist or hasn’t been thought of yet. You just stick your sewer; water pipe, gas main or telephone cable in the ground and if it stops working you simply dig in a new one or leave the service broken. God only knows what archaeologists will think in 3,000 years time.
At any rate, some bright spark decided that with the installation of a new phone cable between Sparta and the southern villages that maybe this time they might put phone post markers in as it had previously been a total nightmare tracking the old cable to try and repair it. In a single day they actually managed to hole the water mains in 15 different locations effectively drying up half of the regions houses and farms. No one had any idea where the pipes actually were and it was nothing short of a miracle that they had laid the cable without digging into the mains originally. They must have been right beside it all the way and never realised.
This is a country fervently trying to upgrade before the Olympics and they haven’t got a clue as to where to find the things that need the upgrading. From a sadistic stand point, I’m looking forward immensely to mid 2004 and the undoubted chaos that will ensue as the Olympics get under way.
At any rate, some bright spark decided that with the installation of a new phone cable between Sparta and the southern villages that maybe this time they might put phone post markers in as it had previously been a total nightmare tracking the old cable to try and repair it. In a single day they actually managed to hole the water mains in 15 different locations effectively drying up half of the regions houses and farms. No one had any idea where the pipes actually were and it was nothing short of a miracle that they had laid the cable without digging into the mains originally. They must have been right beside it all the way and never realised.
This is a country fervently trying to upgrade before the Olympics and they haven’t got a clue as to where to find the things that need the upgrading. From a sadistic stand point, I’m looking forward immensely to mid 2004 and the undoubted chaos that will ensue as the Olympics get under way.
Garbage, Goats And Fattened Rats
A couple of the stories that Reinhardt told us were just priceless and highlight the very casual approach to life that Greeks have. Nothing is ever rushed, tomorrow is just fine and they probably get my nomination for the, "She’ll Be Right” award.
The council in Glykovrisi had been promising their constituents for years that they were going to buy a proper garbage truck for the region. Finally the big day arrived and after various speeches and a long lunch at the taverna the gleaming new truck was officially put into service. Two days later on the Saturday, three of the councillors decided to take it for a spin to a nearby fishing village to pig out at the local fish market restaurant. They ate and drank for half the afternoon and on returning managed to put it over an embankment, rolling it 3 times. Luckily no one was injured seriously. As Reinhardt pointed out at least the word “garbage” on the side of the truck pretty much summed it up. Three very red faces in the village. They got around the problem by building a cage trailer and attaching it to one of the councillor’s tractors. They rumble around the district heaving plastic bags over the 3-meter high cage with those bags failing to make it, exploding on the road and being left behind for the dogs and rats to clean up. Nothing is ever wasted here. This happened 9 years ago and the tractor is still hard at it and the local dogs and rats grow steadily obese.
At the top of Reinhardt’s block is a natural spring which is where the village derives it name (Glykovrisi = Sweet Spring), which provides all of his house water and farm irrigation. It also feeds a large concrete cistern half way down the hill, which is the village water supply. Although there is a cyclone fence and double gates surrounding it for security, they are never locked and it is quite normal to see the shepherds taking their goats and sheep in there for feeding on the surrounding grass. As I mentioned the local area is predominantly limestone and hence they get quite a build up of calcium on anything connected to the water. The village council decided to clean out the water cistern as water pressure had dropped somewhat and they thought it may be in the valve or feed pipe at the cistern. It is buried many feet into the ground with only the top 3 feet showing above ground. When they drained it they discovered several goats in various stages of decomposition. Obviously they had gotten in through the access panel in the top, whilst leaning over trying to get a drink of water, they had fallen in and eventually drowned. The carcasses were removed and thrown in the yard of the piggery across the road, the tank scrubbed and scraped and refilled. For weeks afterward the council had a steady string of complaints from people saying that the water didn’t taste right anymore and what had they done to foul it up. I guess it would be different without the essence of rotting goats. I am glad the cistern feeds the town below and not Reinhardts place.
The council in Glykovrisi had been promising their constituents for years that they were going to buy a proper garbage truck for the region. Finally the big day arrived and after various speeches and a long lunch at the taverna the gleaming new truck was officially put into service. Two days later on the Saturday, three of the councillors decided to take it for a spin to a nearby fishing village to pig out at the local fish market restaurant. They ate and drank for half the afternoon and on returning managed to put it over an embankment, rolling it 3 times. Luckily no one was injured seriously. As Reinhardt pointed out at least the word “garbage” on the side of the truck pretty much summed it up. Three very red faces in the village. They got around the problem by building a cage trailer and attaching it to one of the councillor’s tractors. They rumble around the district heaving plastic bags over the 3-meter high cage with those bags failing to make it, exploding on the road and being left behind for the dogs and rats to clean up. Nothing is ever wasted here. This happened 9 years ago and the tractor is still hard at it and the local dogs and rats grow steadily obese.
At the top of Reinhardt’s block is a natural spring which is where the village derives it name (Glykovrisi = Sweet Spring), which provides all of his house water and farm irrigation. It also feeds a large concrete cistern half way down the hill, which is the village water supply. Although there is a cyclone fence and double gates surrounding it for security, they are never locked and it is quite normal to see the shepherds taking their goats and sheep in there for feeding on the surrounding grass. As I mentioned the local area is predominantly limestone and hence they get quite a build up of calcium on anything connected to the water. The village council decided to clean out the water cistern as water pressure had dropped somewhat and they thought it may be in the valve or feed pipe at the cistern. It is buried many feet into the ground with only the top 3 feet showing above ground. When they drained it they discovered several goats in various stages of decomposition. Obviously they had gotten in through the access panel in the top, whilst leaning over trying to get a drink of water, they had fallen in and eventually drowned. The carcasses were removed and thrown in the yard of the piggery across the road, the tank scrubbed and scraped and refilled. For weeks afterward the council had a steady string of complaints from people saying that the water didn’t taste right anymore and what had they done to foul it up. I guess it would be different without the essence of rotting goats. I am glad the cistern feeds the town below and not Reinhardts place.
20.12.03
The Good Oil On Olive Harvesting
We spent about 4-5 days of our stay clambering through the treetops helping with the olive harvest and repairing the fences. The local shepherds are a real pest as they continually scrape out the soil and rocks on the fence surrounding thee grove and let there goats in to graze. The goats then attack the lower branches of the olive trees as well as the seedlings. It is an ongoing battle and Reinhardt often has furious conversations with the shepherds who just shrug their shoulders and refuse to acknowledge any wrong doing. Ce la guerre!
It was pretty easy work and the views from the treetops particularly the evening sunsets which were a sheer delight in their mantles of bold crimson and purples. Olives return oil at about a 5:1 ratio so for every 5 kilos of fruit you get a litre of oil. We actually went down to the processing plant to view the process of the washing, crushing and centrifugal separation. The solid waste is removed to another factory where it is steamed and the remaining oil in kernels, skins and leaves is removed. This quality of oil is then sold to cosmetics manufactures and the like, as it is not food grade. The waste from that process is then dried and returned to the main mill where it is used to fire the furnaces that heat the tanks for the initial separation process. Nothing is wasted, green olives in more ways than one.
When the farmers bring the olives in to be crushed they can either take the resulting oil with them or they get a credit with the co-operative for the total literage. The co-operative then acts as a sales broker through out the rest of the year. They generally sell the oil in 30,000 litre batches and when they find a buyer they contact the people who’s oil they are holding and ask if they would like to sell at the price being offered on that batch. It becomes a real gamble, which the farmers love. If they wait to long and there is a glut on the market they may get a very low price. If the world is running short then prices may climb. They are basically playing the futures market.
There are two large kalamata trees in the yard of the house and these ones we picked for table olives. When they are fresh the fruit and juice is a bright purple-red in colour. They have to be split down one side and then soaked in water for a week to get the acid out. They are then layered in drums with thick layers of salt to extract moisture and it is at this point that they start to firm up. After a week in salt they are then thoroughly washed again before being placed in either vinegar or oil with the preferred herbs or garlic etc. All over the farm there are huge bushes of wild oregano and thyme of which Bettina collected quite a bit, dried it out and brought it back with her to Germany. Just sensational on the homemade pizza or in the spaghetti sauce. Most of Reinhardt’s olives are done in garlic and oregano. We are awaiting his late January visit for our share of the haul to be delivered once it has finished being processed. Olives are expensive here in Germany so that is a top notch win as well.
It was pretty easy work and the views from the treetops particularly the evening sunsets which were a sheer delight in their mantles of bold crimson and purples. Olives return oil at about a 5:1 ratio so for every 5 kilos of fruit you get a litre of oil. We actually went down to the processing plant to view the process of the washing, crushing and centrifugal separation. The solid waste is removed to another factory where it is steamed and the remaining oil in kernels, skins and leaves is removed. This quality of oil is then sold to cosmetics manufactures and the like, as it is not food grade. The waste from that process is then dried and returned to the main mill where it is used to fire the furnaces that heat the tanks for the initial separation process. Nothing is wasted, green olives in more ways than one.
When the farmers bring the olives in to be crushed they can either take the resulting oil with them or they get a credit with the co-operative for the total literage. The co-operative then acts as a sales broker through out the rest of the year. They generally sell the oil in 30,000 litre batches and when they find a buyer they contact the people who’s oil they are holding and ask if they would like to sell at the price being offered on that batch. It becomes a real gamble, which the farmers love. If they wait to long and there is a glut on the market they may get a very low price. If the world is running short then prices may climb. They are basically playing the futures market.
There are two large kalamata trees in the yard of the house and these ones we picked for table olives. When they are fresh the fruit and juice is a bright purple-red in colour. They have to be split down one side and then soaked in water for a week to get the acid out. They are then layered in drums with thick layers of salt to extract moisture and it is at this point that they start to firm up. After a week in salt they are then thoroughly washed again before being placed in either vinegar or oil with the preferred herbs or garlic etc. All over the farm there are huge bushes of wild oregano and thyme of which Bettina collected quite a bit, dried it out and brought it back with her to Germany. Just sensational on the homemade pizza or in the spaghetti sauce. Most of Reinhardt’s olives are done in garlic and oregano. We are awaiting his late January visit for our share of the haul to be delivered once it has finished being processed. Olives are expensive here in Germany so that is a top notch win as well.
17.12.03
Creepy Crawlies And Greek Hospitals
Reinhardt also has a collection of snakes and spiders in jars on the mantelpiece. Greece has quite an array of them including cross adders, sand vipers, horned vipers and rather nasty looking black brute of a spider that looks distinctly like a funnel web but I have been reliably informed that although its bite will make you very ill it has never been known to kill anyone. The snakes on the other hand are seriously poisonous and every summer, half of the people in regional hospitals are those that have been bitten by them as they work their market gardens and orchards. A large number of goat herders and shepherds also fall foul of the pesky little mongrels.
Greek hospitals are one place you do not, I repeat; do not want to end up in.
A friend of Reinhardt was visiting from Germany and he borrowed the motorbike for a quick run. Consequential to him spreading himself down the gravel road outside, he wound up via ambulance in the Sparta hospital. Reinhardt went to visit him the following day. He was lying in the bed, his wounds untreated, crusted in blood, clouds of flies swarming the infected sores. The doctor told Reinhardt that it was best just to let these things heal naturally. He was rescued immediately, driven to Athens and flown back to Germany for some proper intensive care.
Greek hospitals are one place you do not, I repeat; do not want to end up in.
A friend of Reinhardt was visiting from Germany and he borrowed the motorbike for a quick run. Consequential to him spreading himself down the gravel road outside, he wound up via ambulance in the Sparta hospital. Reinhardt went to visit him the following day. He was lying in the bed, his wounds untreated, crusted in blood, clouds of flies swarming the infected sores. The doctor told Reinhardt that it was best just to let these things heal naturally. He was rescued immediately, driven to Athens and flown back to Germany for some proper intensive care.
14.12.03
Captain Olearus The King Of Bio Olive Oil
Previously I mentioned the Turkish name for Glykovrisi being Bisani. When the Turks took over they renamed all of the towns to names that suited them. When the Greeks got the country back they reverted in most cases to their original names. Some towns today still have two names depending on whom you talk to. Total confusion again.
We left the village and headed up to the Taygetos Mountains behind the village to where Reinhardt’s house is perched. It overlooks the village; Laconia Bay and the snow capped Parnon Mountains, rising 3,000 meters high to the west. Magnificent panorama to behold as you sit on the balcony having breakfast or that late afternoon beer. Very peaceful and harmonious if you disregard the occasional dogfight between Greek Air force jets whizzing up and down the valley below.
The upper village is a collection of about 20 stone cottages of which half are only tumble down shells. Five of the houses occupied are owned by Germans, quite a little community. Reinhardt’s olive grove is located a little higher up near the top of the mountain. He has 180 trees in total, which produce about 800 litres of oil each year. As it is an organic grove the oil is of a very high quality and he regularly has offers from pharmaceutical companies who want to buy the entire lot. He only sells to family and friends though and gets about AUD$20 per litre for it. He has a variety of citrus trees there as well and his brother Zigfried (Ziggy) is currently building his own house on the boundary of the grove.
He bought the entire grove with its 200 year old trees plus his house and land for about AUD$5,000 in the 80’s. All the locals thought he was crazy and went about the village telling everyone that there was a loco Germans in town paying huge money for old houses and bits of land with a few trees on it. Initially he only had half the olive grove but the guy who owned it knew the owner of the other half, gave him a call and within days Reinhardt was offered the remainder of the block for a song. He has never looked back.
Having lived there on and off for 20 years, Reinhardt speaks fluent Greek which was a huge advantage to us in the tavernas at night and on our sightseeing trips. His knowledge of the history behind the country is astounding. He never stopped giving me dates and names and stories of who conquered whom and why this civilisation failed or succeeded. Great memory! His being a geologist was also a big plus as he was able to tell me loads about the Greek islands formation and types of stone used in different constructions. Having an avid interest in geology myself it was a nice bonus.
His house was only a shell when he first purchased it but he has rebuilt it to include a ground floor self contained flat which is where Bettina and I stayed, a first floor housing his kitchen, lounge, bathroom and laundry and then in the A frame apex his own bedroom. The house has a lovely big open fireplace in the kitchen, which we lit almost every night. Just magic to sit back whilst playing cards, having a beer or splitting olives in preparation for marinating beside a roaring hearth. Even got around to doing some cooking in the coals, which I’ve not been able to do for quite a long time. Spuds in foil and that type of thing.
The hills around the house are predominantly limestone and when he was excavating the cellar he cracked into a small cave complete with its own stalactites and stalagmites, which certainly makes for an interesting cellar. In the intense heat of summer he will take a camp bed down there to sleep at night in the blissful coolness.
We left the village and headed up to the Taygetos Mountains behind the village to where Reinhardt’s house is perched. It overlooks the village; Laconia Bay and the snow capped Parnon Mountains, rising 3,000 meters high to the west. Magnificent panorama to behold as you sit on the balcony having breakfast or that late afternoon beer. Very peaceful and harmonious if you disregard the occasional dogfight between Greek Air force jets whizzing up and down the valley below.
The upper village is a collection of about 20 stone cottages of which half are only tumble down shells. Five of the houses occupied are owned by Germans, quite a little community. Reinhardt’s olive grove is located a little higher up near the top of the mountain. He has 180 trees in total, which produce about 800 litres of oil each year. As it is an organic grove the oil is of a very high quality and he regularly has offers from pharmaceutical companies who want to buy the entire lot. He only sells to family and friends though and gets about AUD$20 per litre for it. He has a variety of citrus trees there as well and his brother Zigfried (Ziggy) is currently building his own house on the boundary of the grove.
He bought the entire grove with its 200 year old trees plus his house and land for about AUD$5,000 in the 80’s. All the locals thought he was crazy and went about the village telling everyone that there was a loco Germans in town paying huge money for old houses and bits of land with a few trees on it. Initially he only had half the olive grove but the guy who owned it knew the owner of the other half, gave him a call and within days Reinhardt was offered the remainder of the block for a song. He has never looked back.
Having lived there on and off for 20 years, Reinhardt speaks fluent Greek which was a huge advantage to us in the tavernas at night and on our sightseeing trips. His knowledge of the history behind the country is astounding. He never stopped giving me dates and names and stories of who conquered whom and why this civilisation failed or succeeded. Great memory! His being a geologist was also a big plus as he was able to tell me loads about the Greek islands formation and types of stone used in different constructions. Having an avid interest in geology myself it was a nice bonus.
His house was only a shell when he first purchased it but he has rebuilt it to include a ground floor self contained flat which is where Bettina and I stayed, a first floor housing his kitchen, lounge, bathroom and laundry and then in the A frame apex his own bedroom. The house has a lovely big open fireplace in the kitchen, which we lit almost every night. Just magic to sit back whilst playing cards, having a beer or splitting olives in preparation for marinating beside a roaring hearth. Even got around to doing some cooking in the coals, which I’ve not been able to do for quite a long time. Spuds in foil and that type of thing.
The hills around the house are predominantly limestone and when he was excavating the cellar he cracked into a small cave complete with its own stalactites and stalagmites, which certainly makes for an interesting cellar. In the intense heat of summer he will take a camp bed down there to sleep at night in the blissful coolness.
Albanians In Greece And Chinese In Albania ???
It was the first time we got to meet Bacci and Astrid who are Albanian nationals that work for Reinhardt during the olive harvest. Greece is one of the few EEU countries that turn a blind eye to the arrival of refugees from the former Balkan states. They had some amazing stories to tell.
Astrid’s son had just arrived from Albania as well. He is 16 years old and had walked the 270km across the Alps in 18 days by himself with only the clothes on his back and a small rucksack of food.
They also told us about the public works official who was in charge of the main reservoir for the Albanian capital of Tirana. One night he got so pissed on vodka he somehow contrived to open the main sluice gates on the dam wall. He opened them so far that the pressure of the escaping water buckled the plates, preventing them from being closed again. The ensuing flood downstream broke the banks of the capital’s river flooding businesses and homes. The guy, realising his blunder, knew that he would be hunted down and killed for what he had done. He took off and has never been seen or heard from again. It was in the news in late 1999.
The other little bit I found fascinating from that neck of the woods was that when the Balkan states initially broke away from Russia they realised that they needed assistance in maintaining the integrity of their borders. Who did they turn to? Another communist country, China. Hence they have had Chinese soldiers on their borders for years now. If any one had told me that the Chinese military were patrolling borders around the EEU I would have laughed. I have never seen it reported anywhere but there you go. Bacci tells me that it is influencing the whole look of Albania as more and more Albanian Chinese are born. Nice people to be sure.
They can only go back to see their families if they are prepared to sneak over the Alps and back again. One of them does so every 5 years or so to take money to their families. It sure is a tough world for some people.
Astrid’s son had just arrived from Albania as well. He is 16 years old and had walked the 270km across the Alps in 18 days by himself with only the clothes on his back and a small rucksack of food.
They also told us about the public works official who was in charge of the main reservoir for the Albanian capital of Tirana. One night he got so pissed on vodka he somehow contrived to open the main sluice gates on the dam wall. He opened them so far that the pressure of the escaping water buckled the plates, preventing them from being closed again. The ensuing flood downstream broke the banks of the capital’s river flooding businesses and homes. The guy, realising his blunder, knew that he would be hunted down and killed for what he had done. He took off and has never been seen or heard from again. It was in the news in late 1999.
The other little bit I found fascinating from that neck of the woods was that when the Balkan states initially broke away from Russia they realised that they needed assistance in maintaining the integrity of their borders. Who did they turn to? Another communist country, China. Hence they have had Chinese soldiers on their borders for years now. If any one had told me that the Chinese military were patrolling borders around the EEU I would have laughed. I have never seen it reported anywhere but there you go. Bacci tells me that it is influencing the whole look of Albania as more and more Albanian Chinese are born. Nice people to be sure.
They can only go back to see their families if they are prepared to sneak over the Alps and back again. One of them does so every 5 years or so to take money to their families. It sure is a tough world for some people.
13.12.03
To Sparta And Beyond
The following day, after a quick familiarisation tour of the property with the Sales Manager, Angelos Sirotopolous (ex Melbourne lad and a staunch St Kilda supporter), around the suites and facilities we set off back to town on the hotel shuttle. The next tick was to catch the bus to Sparta in the Peloponnese and then change buses to go another hour further south to Glykovrisi where Bettina’s mate Reinhardt has his olive farm and where we were destined to spend the next 11 nights.
The central Athens bus station is located on the northern outskirts of town. It is completely surrounded, block after block, by scrap metal dealers, junkyards and recycling plants. I have to say if you were an international visitor arriving to Athens for the games you would be mortified. Pot holed roads, remains of dead dogs, quagmires of mud and puddles of waste oil sludge everywhere. I half expected to see the remains of the Exxon Valdez lying at the rear of one of the yards. You could be forgiven for plotting your travel agents untimely demise when happening upon this little lot. If it was your first impression of Athens then I think it safe to say that it would cloud your impressions for the rest of your stay. I certainly do hope they have something better planned for the Olympics. Once again the coach ticket was unbelievably inexpensive at only 15 euros. It is about 300km to Sparta and a further 80km’s down to Glykovrisi.
The trip took about 5 hours and as we crossed the narrow neck of land connecting the Peloponnese to the rest of Greece at Corinth we could see the Corinth Channel, which is a shipping channel cut through the rock. It enables ships and ferries sailing to Italy to head directly north and negate the need to circumnavigate the Peloponnese thereby cutting hundreds of sea miles off their trip. It was originally started by the Romans. They would haul their ships through the channel on ropes attached to the prow and then to teams of men on either side of the channel along the top. It was broadened and deepened to allow modern ships and tankers through at the end of the 19th century. Kind of a mini Suez Canal and a superb feat of engineering.
I was really surprised by how mountainous the Peloponnese area is. There are two main ranges of mountains running north / south which have a height of between 2,500 and 3,000 meters approx. I could often see snow covering the peaks. Not what I expected in Greece at all. The entire trip was either going up hill or down hill as the road zigzagged through the countryside. The ground cover is predominantly rocks and shale with a low cover of tangled undergrowth. A very harsh kind of environment in its own way.
Lots of old fortresses and immense stone walls known as Cyclop Walls were to be seen dotted around the hills as we wound along the road. The Cyclop Walls were built prior to the Mycenaean period 500 years BC. The massive blocks of stone fit together in the most precise jig saw I have ever seen. Each of the walled areas has 5 sides like a pentagon. In their entirety each one is probably about a kilometre in length and 4 -5 meters high. Why they were built is a complete mystery, who built them is also a mystery. The Mycenaean’s were the first to record their existence and they were amazed at how anyone, other than monsters, could have constructed anything containing stones that are several cubic meters in size. The monster of choice at that time was the mythical gigantic one-eyed Cyclops. Hence the name but the mystery remains. Another one for Eric von Daniken.
Maybe Cyclops were one eyed bug blatters from a distant galaxy who had become sick and tired of building all those pyramid thingies in Egypt and were trying their hands at something more creative whilst on holiday. I can imagine the conversation between the Cyclopses, “ Jeez Ralph open your eye, there’s no way a five sided pyramid is ever going to work. Let’s give it a miss and stick to the four sided ones like in Egypt.”
When we arrived in Glykovrisi (formerly Bisani during Turkish rule), Reinhardt, Bettina’s mate and ex-geologist, was there to meet us and the first order of the day was to wander into one of the open air cafes on the villages main intersection for an ouzo and a beer.
The central Athens bus station is located on the northern outskirts of town. It is completely surrounded, block after block, by scrap metal dealers, junkyards and recycling plants. I have to say if you were an international visitor arriving to Athens for the games you would be mortified. Pot holed roads, remains of dead dogs, quagmires of mud and puddles of waste oil sludge everywhere. I half expected to see the remains of the Exxon Valdez lying at the rear of one of the yards. You could be forgiven for plotting your travel agents untimely demise when happening upon this little lot. If it was your first impression of Athens then I think it safe to say that it would cloud your impressions for the rest of your stay. I certainly do hope they have something better planned for the Olympics. Once again the coach ticket was unbelievably inexpensive at only 15 euros. It is about 300km to Sparta and a further 80km’s down to Glykovrisi.
The trip took about 5 hours and as we crossed the narrow neck of land connecting the Peloponnese to the rest of Greece at Corinth we could see the Corinth Channel, which is a shipping channel cut through the rock. It enables ships and ferries sailing to Italy to head directly north and negate the need to circumnavigate the Peloponnese thereby cutting hundreds of sea miles off their trip. It was originally started by the Romans. They would haul their ships through the channel on ropes attached to the prow and then to teams of men on either side of the channel along the top. It was broadened and deepened to allow modern ships and tankers through at the end of the 19th century. Kind of a mini Suez Canal and a superb feat of engineering.
I was really surprised by how mountainous the Peloponnese area is. There are two main ranges of mountains running north / south which have a height of between 2,500 and 3,000 meters approx. I could often see snow covering the peaks. Not what I expected in Greece at all. The entire trip was either going up hill or down hill as the road zigzagged through the countryside. The ground cover is predominantly rocks and shale with a low cover of tangled undergrowth. A very harsh kind of environment in its own way.
Lots of old fortresses and immense stone walls known as Cyclop Walls were to be seen dotted around the hills as we wound along the road. The Cyclop Walls were built prior to the Mycenaean period 500 years BC. The massive blocks of stone fit together in the most precise jig saw I have ever seen. Each of the walled areas has 5 sides like a pentagon. In their entirety each one is probably about a kilometre in length and 4 -5 meters high. Why they were built is a complete mystery, who built them is also a mystery. The Mycenaean’s were the first to record their existence and they were amazed at how anyone, other than monsters, could have constructed anything containing stones that are several cubic meters in size. The monster of choice at that time was the mythical gigantic one-eyed Cyclops. Hence the name but the mystery remains. Another one for Eric von Daniken.
Maybe Cyclops were one eyed bug blatters from a distant galaxy who had become sick and tired of building all those pyramid thingies in Egypt and were trying their hands at something more creative whilst on holiday. I can imagine the conversation between the Cyclopses, “ Jeez Ralph open your eye, there’s no way a five sided pyramid is ever going to work. Let’s give it a miss and stick to the four sided ones like in Egypt.”
When we arrived in Glykovrisi (formerly Bisani during Turkish rule), Reinhardt, Bettina’s mate and ex-geologist, was there to meet us and the first order of the day was to wander into one of the open air cafes on the villages main intersection for an ouzo and a beer.
6.12.03
Blood Brother With The Gods Of Olympus
We approached the Acropolis (opolis = high town), without the benefit of a map, as you can see it from just about anywhere in town perched on its hill with massive stone columns rising to the sky like candles on a birthday cake. We simply walked until we struck the surrounding wrought iron fence and then followed it around till we discovered an open gate that led into the lower area where large racks of assorted marble and sandstone ruins and relics lay scattered across the ground. Most of them numbered and obviously sorted into some sort of order. An open-air archaeological junkyard and repair shop no less. We didn’t see anybody around other than a largish tour group much further up the hill towards the base of the cliffs, so we took off in the general direction towards them in the hope of discovering the main pathway to the top.
We discovered later that there was a ticket gate on the other side of the Acropolis and the charge was about AUD$25 per person. Another fabulous bonus! This bodes well, thought I. The god’s on Mount Olympus are surely smiling on us or at the very least smirking and snickering.
Ploughing ahead we wandered up a grass and rock covered slope which opened up onto the remains of an ancient amphitheatre with half of the tiers either missing or over grown by soil and grass. We perched on the rocks overlooking it and had a cigarette and a quiet moment of reflection as to our locality; after all, the whole of the Acropolis was commissioned by Pericles in 567B.C. and completed some 30 years later. It really gives me goose bumps and a vaguely ethereal feeling to contemplate such an ancient creation.
We patiently waited for the over weight tour group of 50 something’s on the terrace above us, cameras flashing like a paparazzi convention, to rumble off like so many sheep, bleating, grunting and sweating profusely in loyal pursuit of the brightly clad tour guide ahead.
As we meandered around the base of the cliffs we finally came across the main pathway, which at that point came along side the Theatre of Dionysus. This amphitheatre has been fully restored and is absolutely beautiful in its symmetry and timeless grace. The angle of descent from the upper to the lower tiers is amazingly steep and a lot of the tiers have been replaced with modern concrete sections in some places as well as having steel handrails. Yet the surrounding walls and mosaic tiled central stage still echo the age and dignity of the structure. My first show stopper of the trip. They hold regular poetry readings as well as opera and theatre productions in the evenings here throughout the summer months. I would love to attend such an evening if for nothing more than to be a part of such an amazing history. It has to be practically the oldest theatre on earth.
We pushed on up the path until we reached the main entrance portico which I have to say at the very least was impressive in its grandeur. Unfortunately due to the upcoming Olympic Games, all of the main structures are clad in scaffolding as they attempt to do as much restoration as possible. It detracted from the overall effect but only slightly. Given the state of the site due to endless years of conflict and war I guess they are doing well to have as much left as they do. In the 1780’s when Turkey was the occupying force they had chosen the Acropolis to house their powder magazine. A well-aimed cannonball from the Venetian army found its mark during the height of battle and a great deal of damage was done as the magazine erupted.
Again in 1816 the Earl of Elgin decided to remove the massive sculpted plinths from around the top of the Parthenon for the glory of His Majesty in Britain. They still reside today in the British Natural History Museum although a bid to return them in time for the games is steadily gaining impetus. The problem here is manifold as when the British Government repeal the laws allowing the marbles to be returned, they open the floodgates for endless antiquities to be returned oversees. This includes the largest collection of Australian Aboriginal remains in the world. Strange to think that the return of Aboriginal remains to Australia is being blocked by a bunch of rocks from the Acropolis. Had Elgin not removed the marbles when he did the damage caused by acid rain and traffic pollution would have been severe. Even today the Greeks do not have a museum capable of holding them safely. I believe that they are building one but like all things Greek it may take some time.
We wandered around looking at the Parthenon and the Temple of Nike with its six maidens, The Catyrids, holding up the portico. All of the statuettes are plaster copies as 5 were pinched by Elgin when he knocked off the Parthenon marbles. The other was grabbed by the Greeks and placed in the main Acropolis Museum. The view from the top around Athens is great. A complete 360 lookout for the entire city. From different vantage points you can see other massive pillars rising up in parks around the city, ancient churches and a variety of temples. The best kept being the Temple of Zeus, which we went down to look at afterwards.
Whilst having our picnic lunch beside the Parthenon, I was chopping at an apple with my penknife when it slipped through the fruit and bit into my thumb. Boy did the blood flow. Luckily I had a plaster strip in my back pack and whacked that on but yes folks, my blood has mingled into the dust along with the blood of god only knows how many others over the last 2,500 years. Blood brothers with the Gods of Olympus!
We probably spent about 2 hours picking our way around the structures before heading back down into the Plaka, the street markets and the Temple of Zeus. A little way further out we came across an old graveyard, which they are slowly excavating. Entry here was free as well but the lady in the ticket box insisted that we must take a ticket with free entry written on it. Obviously her brother in laws cousin three times removed has a printing shop somewhere in The Plaka. Business and families are truly tribal in Greek society. Keep the money in the family circle. They had a museum there displaying relics that they had unearthed to date and we looked around the cabinets full of pottery and small items of jewellery. Some of it was quite fascinating but the part that I liked best were the statues dotted around on the floor space that you could lay hands on. Ancient warriors and riders on horseback in armour with notes telling how their bronze shields and spears had eroded away eons ago. So, so ancient yet tangible and touchable. Really neat!
Returning to the city centre we stopped to look at one of the new underground stations that has just been built for the city loop. The loop had taken a very long time to build because no matter which direction they tried to take the line they kept running into sections of artefacts. Work would halt and the museum staff would come and take a look and either give the go ahead to proceed or shut down operations all together, until the historical value of the site could be determined. One site was so important they had to backtrack 300 meters and change the proposed line direction all together. The underground station which the line was heading to was half way through construction and had to be abandoned and a new one built at a location where the line could intersect with it. Crazy stuff hey. That particular site has been given to the University of Athens Archaeological Department for student training.
As Reinhardt later explained to me, it was the main reason why Athens and most other Greek cities were in such a run down state. People would get development projects together, raise the finance, purchase the land and as soon as they turned the first sod of earth they would hit old stone work or some such. Work would have stop immediately until the museum had cleared the site for further digging but this could take up to 12 years due to the huge number of sites under investigation. The investors would lose patience and the project would die, never to be resumed.
About 5 years ago they finally changed the law and now the rules say that if no ruling has been given within six months they can proceed without museum clearance. Reinhardt has actually seen people smashing up statues on construction sites with sledgehammers to tote them away in the depth of night to dump them. The destruction of incredibly valuable historical pieces to avoid any project delays.
Any way, back at the subway station, where they have dug down from street level to subway level, they have left the original excavation wall in place behind plate glass. It stands about 4 meters high and runs for some 50 meters in length. Small plaques are attached to various protrusions such as water ducts, foundations and mosaics from B.C. and various human graves, one even still had the skeletal remains lying in the stone walled burial crypt. Pre-Christianity I might add. I wonder how he would have felt if he had known his remains would be on public display in a subway station a couple of thousand years later. Really cool stuff. A cross section of 3 millennia of history in front of your face.
It was a huge day and as the light began to fade to grey we scooted off to the nearest bus stop for the trip back to the hotel and a well earned Tanqueray and tonic with a twist of course, on the balcony.
We discovered later that there was a ticket gate on the other side of the Acropolis and the charge was about AUD$25 per person. Another fabulous bonus! This bodes well, thought I. The god’s on Mount Olympus are surely smiling on us or at the very least smirking and snickering.
Ploughing ahead we wandered up a grass and rock covered slope which opened up onto the remains of an ancient amphitheatre with half of the tiers either missing or over grown by soil and grass. We perched on the rocks overlooking it and had a cigarette and a quiet moment of reflection as to our locality; after all, the whole of the Acropolis was commissioned by Pericles in 567B.C. and completed some 30 years later. It really gives me goose bumps and a vaguely ethereal feeling to contemplate such an ancient creation.
We patiently waited for the over weight tour group of 50 something’s on the terrace above us, cameras flashing like a paparazzi convention, to rumble off like so many sheep, bleating, grunting and sweating profusely in loyal pursuit of the brightly clad tour guide ahead.
As we meandered around the base of the cliffs we finally came across the main pathway, which at that point came along side the Theatre of Dionysus. This amphitheatre has been fully restored and is absolutely beautiful in its symmetry and timeless grace. The angle of descent from the upper to the lower tiers is amazingly steep and a lot of the tiers have been replaced with modern concrete sections in some places as well as having steel handrails. Yet the surrounding walls and mosaic tiled central stage still echo the age and dignity of the structure. My first show stopper of the trip. They hold regular poetry readings as well as opera and theatre productions in the evenings here throughout the summer months. I would love to attend such an evening if for nothing more than to be a part of such an amazing history. It has to be practically the oldest theatre on earth.
We pushed on up the path until we reached the main entrance portico which I have to say at the very least was impressive in its grandeur. Unfortunately due to the upcoming Olympic Games, all of the main structures are clad in scaffolding as they attempt to do as much restoration as possible. It detracted from the overall effect but only slightly. Given the state of the site due to endless years of conflict and war I guess they are doing well to have as much left as they do. In the 1780’s when Turkey was the occupying force they had chosen the Acropolis to house their powder magazine. A well-aimed cannonball from the Venetian army found its mark during the height of battle and a great deal of damage was done as the magazine erupted.
Again in 1816 the Earl of Elgin decided to remove the massive sculpted plinths from around the top of the Parthenon for the glory of His Majesty in Britain. They still reside today in the British Natural History Museum although a bid to return them in time for the games is steadily gaining impetus. The problem here is manifold as when the British Government repeal the laws allowing the marbles to be returned, they open the floodgates for endless antiquities to be returned oversees. This includes the largest collection of Australian Aboriginal remains in the world. Strange to think that the return of Aboriginal remains to Australia is being blocked by a bunch of rocks from the Acropolis. Had Elgin not removed the marbles when he did the damage caused by acid rain and traffic pollution would have been severe. Even today the Greeks do not have a museum capable of holding them safely. I believe that they are building one but like all things Greek it may take some time.
We wandered around looking at the Parthenon and the Temple of Nike with its six maidens, The Catyrids, holding up the portico. All of the statuettes are plaster copies as 5 were pinched by Elgin when he knocked off the Parthenon marbles. The other was grabbed by the Greeks and placed in the main Acropolis Museum. The view from the top around Athens is great. A complete 360 lookout for the entire city. From different vantage points you can see other massive pillars rising up in parks around the city, ancient churches and a variety of temples. The best kept being the Temple of Zeus, which we went down to look at afterwards.
Whilst having our picnic lunch beside the Parthenon, I was chopping at an apple with my penknife when it slipped through the fruit and bit into my thumb. Boy did the blood flow. Luckily I had a plaster strip in my back pack and whacked that on but yes folks, my blood has mingled into the dust along with the blood of god only knows how many others over the last 2,500 years. Blood brothers with the Gods of Olympus!
We probably spent about 2 hours picking our way around the structures before heading back down into the Plaka, the street markets and the Temple of Zeus. A little way further out we came across an old graveyard, which they are slowly excavating. Entry here was free as well but the lady in the ticket box insisted that we must take a ticket with free entry written on it. Obviously her brother in laws cousin three times removed has a printing shop somewhere in The Plaka. Business and families are truly tribal in Greek society. Keep the money in the family circle. They had a museum there displaying relics that they had unearthed to date and we looked around the cabinets full of pottery and small items of jewellery. Some of it was quite fascinating but the part that I liked best were the statues dotted around on the floor space that you could lay hands on. Ancient warriors and riders on horseback in armour with notes telling how their bronze shields and spears had eroded away eons ago. So, so ancient yet tangible and touchable. Really neat!
Returning to the city centre we stopped to look at one of the new underground stations that has just been built for the city loop. The loop had taken a very long time to build because no matter which direction they tried to take the line they kept running into sections of artefacts. Work would halt and the museum staff would come and take a look and either give the go ahead to proceed or shut down operations all together, until the historical value of the site could be determined. One site was so important they had to backtrack 300 meters and change the proposed line direction all together. The underground station which the line was heading to was half way through construction and had to be abandoned and a new one built at a location where the line could intersect with it. Crazy stuff hey. That particular site has been given to the University of Athens Archaeological Department for student training.
As Reinhardt later explained to me, it was the main reason why Athens and most other Greek cities were in such a run down state. People would get development projects together, raise the finance, purchase the land and as soon as they turned the first sod of earth they would hit old stone work or some such. Work would have stop immediately until the museum had cleared the site for further digging but this could take up to 12 years due to the huge number of sites under investigation. The investors would lose patience and the project would die, never to be resumed.
About 5 years ago they finally changed the law and now the rules say that if no ruling has been given within six months they can proceed without museum clearance. Reinhardt has actually seen people smashing up statues on construction sites with sledgehammers to tote them away in the depth of night to dump them. The destruction of incredibly valuable historical pieces to avoid any project delays.
Any way, back at the subway station, where they have dug down from street level to subway level, they have left the original excavation wall in place behind plate glass. It stands about 4 meters high and runs for some 50 meters in length. Small plaques are attached to various protrusions such as water ducts, foundations and mosaics from B.C. and various human graves, one even still had the skeletal remains lying in the stone walled burial crypt. Pre-Christianity I might add. I wonder how he would have felt if he had known his remains would be on public display in a subway station a couple of thousand years later. Really cool stuff. A cross section of 3 millennia of history in front of your face.
It was a huge day and as the light began to fade to grey we scooted off to the nearest bus stop for the trip back to the hotel and a well earned Tanqueray and tonic with a twist of course, on the balcony.
Jason And The Argonauts Here I Come !
Well, it has finally begun!
For so many years just a dream and now my first true holiday out into the vast expanse of Europe. Fifteen days in Greece. Yahoo buckaroo! Land of Jason and the Argonauts, of golden fleeces, of numerous famed gods on mountain tops, of great mythical one eyed beasties, of blazing bouzouki’s and ouzo and courageous feats of plate smashing. My kind of place!
I had no doubts that this was a place I truly needed to see and experience first hand. Well it was certainly different to what I expected and it certainly served to prove to me just how abysmal my knowledge of European history is. Never the less it turned out to be a wonderful living history lesson in itself, a great deal of which shall remain firmly imprinted in my memory.
Bettina and I flew down with Lufthansa from Frankfurt to Athens, (2658km’s as the crow flies) not one of the cheap flights unfortunately as none of the peanut and cola airlines go there as yet. No doubt there will be a surge of them, either with or after the Olympic Games in mid 2004.
We had a real mixture of weather during our stay down there with about 3 days of rain, several with grey skies and howling northerly winds but the remainder was all blue skies and sunshine pushing the temperature up to 22 degrees which for Winter is none to shabby.
It was in the course of the taxi ride to the hotel from the airport that the truly run down nature of Athens and its surrounds became overwhelmingly apparent. The reason for this civilisation in decline I shall illuminate a little later.
The traffic, dust and smog combined with a vigorous pre-Olympics public works program left nothing discernable other than complete and utter bedlam. Mediterranean madhouse. So much of Greece has been destroyed by so many wars, crusades and various other invaders that city after city has been built on the ruins of the previous buildings. The Turks ruled here for 450 years after the Venetians until their Ottoman/Ozmanian Empire was thrown out in 1821.
A good example of the modern day mixed up heritage is the national flag. A blue cross on a white background in the top right hand corner with the remainder covered in horizontal blue and white stripes. The blue and white stripes are from the flag of Bavaria. Southeastern Germany some 2500km’s away to the north. The country has been taken over by Turks, Egyptians, Italians, Germans and even the allied forces in WWII. Empires with names like Roman, Ottoman, Franks, Venetian, Byzantine and Mycenaean have held claim to it at some point in time. The Germanic influence in Greece goes way back, Queen Victoria being Kaiser Wilhelm II grandmother, Queen Victoria’s daughter later married Kaiser Friedrich Wilhelm and then Elizabeth II marrying Phillip who is himself a Greek. The extension of European blue blood lines. The English, German and Greek royal families have interbred for years. Princess Diana was the first royal to marry inside the British bloodline for over 300 years.
No sooner had Greece emerged scared and battered from WWII than they were flung into a civil war from 1944 till the end of 1949. The right wing won defeating the Stalinist left. They then had a succession of ultra right / conservative fascist dictators running the place. The most notorious being Papadopolis who in 1971 rolled out the armies tanks in response to a student demonstration, killing over 200 of them. The Chinese were not so original in Tiananmen Square. Not a pretty history even in the 20th century.
We finally arrived at the Divani Apollon Palace & Spa in the southern suburb of Vouliagmeni. The Vaucluse of Athens. Green, leafy sprawling suburb on the beachfront and a regular oasis after the helter-skelter taxi ride to get there. The property is only 2 years old and is touted as the best in Athens. I managed to get 2 free nights there courtesy of Leading Hotels of the World. We were given a really nice room on the top floor with our balcony overlooking the beach below and out across the Saronic Gulf towards the Peloponnese in the west. The room was comfortable but not overly large considering the price tag of 600 euros (AUD$1000) per night. I would never fork that much for a room like that no matter how wealthy I was. Still a freebie is a freebie and all the more enjoyable because of it. They even threw in breakfast which I have to say was really good. Lots of freshly made Danish pastries and exotic fruits with a large pot of coffee makes for a great start to the day. We didn’t bother to eat anything else in house as there were so many cantinas along the beachfront serving traditional Greek cuisine and the hotels menus were to say the least was ridiculously exorbitant. A cheeseburger at the coffee shop style brasserie was approx AUD$28. A cup of coffee, which is always a good indicator was about AUD$9.50. As I found out upon checkout, they even managed to slug me about AUD$20 just for some ice in the room to mix with my duty free supplies. Cheeky sods.
At any rate on both evenings we tramped a little way along the beach path a selected a cantina and set about hitting the menu with gusto. Calamari, surely the nicest I have ever had, taramasalata and garlic dip, chicken and lamb souvlakia etc. etc. etc. All washed down with a liberal quantity of Mythos Hellenic lager beer. Probably the closest thing I have discovered to Victoria Bitter since arriving in Europe. Just magic. The only disturbance to mar the relaxing sound of waves gently rolling up the sands was the squelching rumble inside my own head as I munched and guzzled my way towards olfactory nirvana. As we walked back from a local marina the tide had come in and a lot of the cantina’s table and chairs were sinking at odd angles into the sand as a foot of water swirled around beneath their stricken legs. No one seemed to care. Maybe they all get washed back up the beach by morning and it saves having to wipe them down. I would not put it past them.
Our first full day there was spent doing the traditional tourist trip. Having consulted the doorman Yannis as to best routes into town, we struck out for the nearest bus stop. Public transport is way cheap in Athens. Only 45 cents a ticket to anywhere in town on the bus. Bargain!
We arrived in the central city outside the parliament building where they also have the war memorial. Every Sunday they have the traditional, “Changing of the Guard”, ceremony between the sentry boxes in the front square. Dressed in billowing white shirts, red fez caps, trousers better suited to Sinbad the Sailor and shoes with large upturned toes and red pom-poms attached to the points, they make for an interesting sight. There must have been forty of them in the squad and all shouldering the ubiquitous Lee Enfield .303 rifles. They even had the full military band to march them out of the square and onto the main street where they disappeared off around the side of the parliament.
We then walked down the hill to The Plaka (market) an ancient suburb, which borders the Acropolis and is made up of a higgledy-piggledy maze of cobbled stone lanes and streets. The central area for tourist shops and a myriad selection of cafes, ouzeri taverns and restaurant tavernas. Music and televisions blaring forth from the open doors and the pervading smell of charcoal fires as they sizzle the fresh calamaris and souvlakia. The Greeks are a notoriously loud people. Just about any place you go into has a gigantic television set blaring away up on the wall, the radio turned up to distortion level behind the counter and everyone in the place screaming to be heard over the mind numbing din. With every second car and truck driver leaning ferociously on their horns mixed together with the machine gun staccato of the passing scooters and the general rumble of cars and trucks, it is a cacophony of sound on an immensely grand scale. You really have to watch where you walk as well as the footpaths have holes disappearing into cellar and black looming spaces. Some have a steel mesh grid thrown over the top but a lot are just left open. Seriously dangerous for the unwary. I would not recommend Athens as a place for someone to go to de-stress. However there were small places of sanctuary to be found as we wandered along. Some of the lane ways and the buildings therein were so quaint and rustic that it really was like stepping into bygone century. Nothing compared to what was to come however.
For so many years just a dream and now my first true holiday out into the vast expanse of Europe. Fifteen days in Greece. Yahoo buckaroo! Land of Jason and the Argonauts, of golden fleeces, of numerous famed gods on mountain tops, of great mythical one eyed beasties, of blazing bouzouki’s and ouzo and courageous feats of plate smashing. My kind of place!
I had no doubts that this was a place I truly needed to see and experience first hand. Well it was certainly different to what I expected and it certainly served to prove to me just how abysmal my knowledge of European history is. Never the less it turned out to be a wonderful living history lesson in itself, a great deal of which shall remain firmly imprinted in my memory.
Bettina and I flew down with Lufthansa from Frankfurt to Athens, (2658km’s as the crow flies) not one of the cheap flights unfortunately as none of the peanut and cola airlines go there as yet. No doubt there will be a surge of them, either with or after the Olympic Games in mid 2004.
We had a real mixture of weather during our stay down there with about 3 days of rain, several with grey skies and howling northerly winds but the remainder was all blue skies and sunshine pushing the temperature up to 22 degrees which for Winter is none to shabby.
It was in the course of the taxi ride to the hotel from the airport that the truly run down nature of Athens and its surrounds became overwhelmingly apparent. The reason for this civilisation in decline I shall illuminate a little later.
The traffic, dust and smog combined with a vigorous pre-Olympics public works program left nothing discernable other than complete and utter bedlam. Mediterranean madhouse. So much of Greece has been destroyed by so many wars, crusades and various other invaders that city after city has been built on the ruins of the previous buildings. The Turks ruled here for 450 years after the Venetians until their Ottoman/Ozmanian Empire was thrown out in 1821.
A good example of the modern day mixed up heritage is the national flag. A blue cross on a white background in the top right hand corner with the remainder covered in horizontal blue and white stripes. The blue and white stripes are from the flag of Bavaria. Southeastern Germany some 2500km’s away to the north. The country has been taken over by Turks, Egyptians, Italians, Germans and even the allied forces in WWII. Empires with names like Roman, Ottoman, Franks, Venetian, Byzantine and Mycenaean have held claim to it at some point in time. The Germanic influence in Greece goes way back, Queen Victoria being Kaiser Wilhelm II grandmother, Queen Victoria’s daughter later married Kaiser Friedrich Wilhelm and then Elizabeth II marrying Phillip who is himself a Greek. The extension of European blue blood lines. The English, German and Greek royal families have interbred for years. Princess Diana was the first royal to marry inside the British bloodline for over 300 years.
No sooner had Greece emerged scared and battered from WWII than they were flung into a civil war from 1944 till the end of 1949. The right wing won defeating the Stalinist left. They then had a succession of ultra right / conservative fascist dictators running the place. The most notorious being Papadopolis who in 1971 rolled out the armies tanks in response to a student demonstration, killing over 200 of them. The Chinese were not so original in Tiananmen Square. Not a pretty history even in the 20th century.
We finally arrived at the Divani Apollon Palace & Spa in the southern suburb of Vouliagmeni. The Vaucluse of Athens. Green, leafy sprawling suburb on the beachfront and a regular oasis after the helter-skelter taxi ride to get there. The property is only 2 years old and is touted as the best in Athens. I managed to get 2 free nights there courtesy of Leading Hotels of the World. We were given a really nice room on the top floor with our balcony overlooking the beach below and out across the Saronic Gulf towards the Peloponnese in the west. The room was comfortable but not overly large considering the price tag of 600 euros (AUD$1000) per night. I would never fork that much for a room like that no matter how wealthy I was. Still a freebie is a freebie and all the more enjoyable because of it. They even threw in breakfast which I have to say was really good. Lots of freshly made Danish pastries and exotic fruits with a large pot of coffee makes for a great start to the day. We didn’t bother to eat anything else in house as there were so many cantinas along the beachfront serving traditional Greek cuisine and the hotels menus were to say the least was ridiculously exorbitant. A cheeseburger at the coffee shop style brasserie was approx AUD$28. A cup of coffee, which is always a good indicator was about AUD$9.50. As I found out upon checkout, they even managed to slug me about AUD$20 just for some ice in the room to mix with my duty free supplies. Cheeky sods.
At any rate on both evenings we tramped a little way along the beach path a selected a cantina and set about hitting the menu with gusto. Calamari, surely the nicest I have ever had, taramasalata and garlic dip, chicken and lamb souvlakia etc. etc. etc. All washed down with a liberal quantity of Mythos Hellenic lager beer. Probably the closest thing I have discovered to Victoria Bitter since arriving in Europe. Just magic. The only disturbance to mar the relaxing sound of waves gently rolling up the sands was the squelching rumble inside my own head as I munched and guzzled my way towards olfactory nirvana. As we walked back from a local marina the tide had come in and a lot of the cantina’s table and chairs were sinking at odd angles into the sand as a foot of water swirled around beneath their stricken legs. No one seemed to care. Maybe they all get washed back up the beach by morning and it saves having to wipe them down. I would not put it past them.
Our first full day there was spent doing the traditional tourist trip. Having consulted the doorman Yannis as to best routes into town, we struck out for the nearest bus stop. Public transport is way cheap in Athens. Only 45 cents a ticket to anywhere in town on the bus. Bargain!
We arrived in the central city outside the parliament building where they also have the war memorial. Every Sunday they have the traditional, “Changing of the Guard”, ceremony between the sentry boxes in the front square. Dressed in billowing white shirts, red fez caps, trousers better suited to Sinbad the Sailor and shoes with large upturned toes and red pom-poms attached to the points, they make for an interesting sight. There must have been forty of them in the squad and all shouldering the ubiquitous Lee Enfield .303 rifles. They even had the full military band to march them out of the square and onto the main street where they disappeared off around the side of the parliament.
We then walked down the hill to The Plaka (market) an ancient suburb, which borders the Acropolis and is made up of a higgledy-piggledy maze of cobbled stone lanes and streets. The central area for tourist shops and a myriad selection of cafes, ouzeri taverns and restaurant tavernas. Music and televisions blaring forth from the open doors and the pervading smell of charcoal fires as they sizzle the fresh calamaris and souvlakia. The Greeks are a notoriously loud people. Just about any place you go into has a gigantic television set blaring away up on the wall, the radio turned up to distortion level behind the counter and everyone in the place screaming to be heard over the mind numbing din. With every second car and truck driver leaning ferociously on their horns mixed together with the machine gun staccato of the passing scooters and the general rumble of cars and trucks, it is a cacophony of sound on an immensely grand scale. You really have to watch where you walk as well as the footpaths have holes disappearing into cellar and black looming spaces. Some have a steel mesh grid thrown over the top but a lot are just left open. Seriously dangerous for the unwary. I would not recommend Athens as a place for someone to go to de-stress. However there were small places of sanctuary to be found as we wandered along. Some of the lane ways and the buildings therein were so quaint and rustic that it really was like stepping into bygone century. Nothing compared to what was to come however.
8.11.03
Cannibal Slugs And Marauding Trees
With all the rain we have had of late the garden has gone bezerk but it has also brought with it a miniature plague of slugs that threaten the veggie patch on a nightly basis. To counter the slime oozing hordes we have taken to doing nightly rounds of the garden with tin cans to collect them. Bettina with her yellow rubber glove of death and I, her trusty slug-spotting sidekick, make for a formidable team.
Plucked from their slithering meandering they are ruthlessly flung into the awaiting tin can and are then treated to a hot water bath, with the temperature hovering around boiling point. Strange creatures actually as the boiling water literally dissolves their outer skins instantaneously into a veritable slime broth. We place their remains in a pile, down beside the compost heap, where it has been surprising to note that every evening we find quite a few dining on the corpses of their mates. That right folks, these little suckers are cannibals. Kind of justifies the nightly mass annihilation routine to my mind.
We harvested our small crop of poppies the other day for the seed which Thomas uses in his sour dough bread making. The tomatoes and green runner beans are truly bounteous and my imported butternut pumpkins are doing just fine although the season here may be to short to allow them to bear any decent size fruit. The mulberry tree has gone absolutely ballistic and as a result we go out every evening and collect them from the drop sheets spread around beneath. So far we have stuffed every bit of space in the three freezers downstairs to capacity. We are going to defrost the lot and crush them for wine the weekend after next as the tree seems to be just about finished much to everyone’s relief. Messy little suckers. Generally you can use the green mulberries crushed between your hands to remove the purple stains of the ripe ones. Now that the season is just about over there are very few green ones left which only leaves one acceptable method, being a solution of citric acid and water, to clean your hands with.
Work on the house renovations continues but at present we are concentrating more on the exterior whilst the weather permits. We have put a new roof on the old Germanic style garden shed (circa 1928), replacing the roof tresses and recovering with tar paper and bitumen sealants; the traditional method here. The house having been built in 1928, has seen better days in regard the integrity of the mortar between the bricks.
The walls of the cellar have slowly started to ooze moisture over the past winter so we are courageously digging a trench six feet deep all the way around the exterior walls to expose the outside of the cellar. Next step is to remove the old crumbling mortar, replace it with fresh mortar and seal it in with a modern water repellent skin. Quite a big job but it is being done piece meal without raising too many blisters and bad backs. The toughest part is getting through some of the monster tree roots that have made their way from the surrounding trees to the cellar wall. I think a lot of these are largely responsible for the seepage problems we have begun to encounter.
Plucked from their slithering meandering they are ruthlessly flung into the awaiting tin can and are then treated to a hot water bath, with the temperature hovering around boiling point. Strange creatures actually as the boiling water literally dissolves their outer skins instantaneously into a veritable slime broth. We place their remains in a pile, down beside the compost heap, where it has been surprising to note that every evening we find quite a few dining on the corpses of their mates. That right folks, these little suckers are cannibals. Kind of justifies the nightly mass annihilation routine to my mind.
We harvested our small crop of poppies the other day for the seed which Thomas uses in his sour dough bread making. The tomatoes and green runner beans are truly bounteous and my imported butternut pumpkins are doing just fine although the season here may be to short to allow them to bear any decent size fruit. The mulberry tree has gone absolutely ballistic and as a result we go out every evening and collect them from the drop sheets spread around beneath. So far we have stuffed every bit of space in the three freezers downstairs to capacity. We are going to defrost the lot and crush them for wine the weekend after next as the tree seems to be just about finished much to everyone’s relief. Messy little suckers. Generally you can use the green mulberries crushed between your hands to remove the purple stains of the ripe ones. Now that the season is just about over there are very few green ones left which only leaves one acceptable method, being a solution of citric acid and water, to clean your hands with.
Work on the house renovations continues but at present we are concentrating more on the exterior whilst the weather permits. We have put a new roof on the old Germanic style garden shed (circa 1928), replacing the roof tresses and recovering with tar paper and bitumen sealants; the traditional method here. The house having been built in 1928, has seen better days in regard the integrity of the mortar between the bricks.
The walls of the cellar have slowly started to ooze moisture over the past winter so we are courageously digging a trench six feet deep all the way around the exterior walls to expose the outside of the cellar. Next step is to remove the old crumbling mortar, replace it with fresh mortar and seal it in with a modern water repellent skin. Quite a big job but it is being done piece meal without raising too many blisters and bad backs. The toughest part is getting through some of the monster tree roots that have made their way from the surrounding trees to the cellar wall. I think a lot of these are largely responsible for the seepage problems we have begun to encounter.
9.10.03
Family Visit And Schloss Frankenstein
In mid-September I had a visit from my brother and his family. Time was tight but luckily we had the use of Bettina's parents’ car which assisted in squashing quite a bit of sight seeing into the 3 days that we had however like all these things there is never enough time. We also managed to get in a day trip down to the Heidelberg Castle. My second visit but a first for the others. A great opportunity to get everyone a ride on the ICE train for free.
I just love Bettina’s rail pass. It was a good day out and apart from the castle sightseeing we spent time looking around some of the shops on the high street. The weather held up magnificently and we even managed to dine al fresco in the town square for lunch. On one of the other days we managed to get to a couple of other castles that I have never seen before including Schloss Auschaffenberg and Schloss Frankenstein. It is the original castle which was the centre of the legend and people still come every year from as far away as America to celebrate Halloween there. As we walked through the main entrance into the castle grounds which contain nothing more than the remnants of the buildings and some of the walls and parapets, Auston yelled at Inez, “Look out behind you!” Inez turned around and there on a balcony, above the walkway we had just walked through was a giant 7-foot werewolf dressed in a black cape. Inez let out a yelp like a dog being hit with a water pistol. It really did look quite realistic. I presume they were starting to set up for Halloween, which was only 6 weeks away.
The old castles are all fascinating in their own way. The Schloss Auschaffenberg had some really neat towers to climb and one of the arch walkways between the parapets and the main tower actually had a full-blown tree growing out of the cobblestones of the bridge. I guess the root system must have spanned both directions on the bridge. Probably what was holding it all together. Later on that afternoon we managed to have a bit of a wander around Darmstadt and see some of the local sights.
At the Mathildenhöhe Gardens we were lucky enough to catch an exhibition by the Slavic sculptor Igor Mittoraj. Really cool castings and statues. Inez managed to crawl inside one of the brass heads lying on the grass and poke her head out through the eye socket. I would have had no problem getting inside it either - it was massive. A lot of people were playing boules on the gravel area in the gardens and Auston took the time to get some photos of them playing. It is a very popular sport all over Europe.
We visited Bettina’s sister’s house for lunch and to give Inez the opportunity to meet some German kids her own age. We spent the afternoon in part helping the family with their annual apple harvest. Most of the crop from the 40 or so trees ends up being crushed for wine and for breakfast juice. I had also purchased a control line kite for Inez but best intentions were thwarted when the wind failed to blow.
Really good to catch up with them and to let them see a little of my life here.
I just love Bettina’s rail pass. It was a good day out and apart from the castle sightseeing we spent time looking around some of the shops on the high street. The weather held up magnificently and we even managed to dine al fresco in the town square for lunch. On one of the other days we managed to get to a couple of other castles that I have never seen before including Schloss Auschaffenberg and Schloss Frankenstein. It is the original castle which was the centre of the legend and people still come every year from as far away as America to celebrate Halloween there. As we walked through the main entrance into the castle grounds which contain nothing more than the remnants of the buildings and some of the walls and parapets, Auston yelled at Inez, “Look out behind you!” Inez turned around and there on a balcony, above the walkway we had just walked through was a giant 7-foot werewolf dressed in a black cape. Inez let out a yelp like a dog being hit with a water pistol. It really did look quite realistic. I presume they were starting to set up for Halloween, which was only 6 weeks away.
The old castles are all fascinating in their own way. The Schloss Auschaffenberg had some really neat towers to climb and one of the arch walkways between the parapets and the main tower actually had a full-blown tree growing out of the cobblestones of the bridge. I guess the root system must have spanned both directions on the bridge. Probably what was holding it all together. Later on that afternoon we managed to have a bit of a wander around Darmstadt and see some of the local sights.
At the Mathildenhöhe Gardens we were lucky enough to catch an exhibition by the Slavic sculptor Igor Mittoraj. Really cool castings and statues. Inez managed to crawl inside one of the brass heads lying on the grass and poke her head out through the eye socket. I would have had no problem getting inside it either - it was massive. A lot of people were playing boules on the gravel area in the gardens and Auston took the time to get some photos of them playing. It is a very popular sport all over Europe.
We visited Bettina’s sister’s house for lunch and to give Inez the opportunity to meet some German kids her own age. We spent the afternoon in part helping the family with their annual apple harvest. Most of the crop from the 40 or so trees ends up being crushed for wine and for breakfast juice. I had also purchased a control line kite for Inez but best intentions were thwarted when the wind failed to blow.
Really good to catch up with them and to let them see a little of my life here.
22.9.03
Found!! The Fountain Of Youth
News Break*** Plastic surgeons in the States are now using fat sucked from peoples gluteus maximus (bum to some) to inject into the back of peoples hands to remove wrinkles and to give a more youthful appearance. Finally mankind discovers the fountain of youth and we’ve been sitting on it all along.
24.7.03
One More Shot Of Joe
Our office is having its annual office party here on the 24th August. They are having a evening cruise on the Main River with DJ, drinks and buffet dinner. Unfortunately it is the same day/night that we are having our annual house party so it is one event I will have to give a miss. I do however recognise that office parties have to be one of the deadliest events on the social calendar and as such I am not so disappointed in not being able to attend.
This weekend is going to be quite busy as we start to stock up for the party. There is quite a large amount of non-fresh food shopping that can be done in advance as well as wine and the picking up of additional equipment. Last year we had around 50 people and if some of my work mates come along we could well exceed that this year. At least we have the 50 litre barrel of Glucks Pils confirmed which will serve 125 glasses at 400ml.
It was surprising last year how with people drinking wine and spirits, the beer was pretty much left completely to a dedicated handful of us. Hopefully this year we will see a similar story and the barrel will last well into the evening. We are planning on a cold spread this year to avoid the cooking hassle. A lot of people have offered to bring salads and cakes etc. so this will be a huge effort saver.
One addition to the galley weapons this year is the all new whiz bang espresso machine. Replete with Lavazza coffee beans in the grinder we are all set to dilate everyone’s pupils. God how I love Lavazza. There are mornings when getting out the door to catch my bus to work can be severely hindered by the desire for just one more shot of Joe.
This weekend is going to be quite busy as we start to stock up for the party. There is quite a large amount of non-fresh food shopping that can be done in advance as well as wine and the picking up of additional equipment. Last year we had around 50 people and if some of my work mates come along we could well exceed that this year. At least we have the 50 litre barrel of Glucks Pils confirmed which will serve 125 glasses at 400ml.
It was surprising last year how with people drinking wine and spirits, the beer was pretty much left completely to a dedicated handful of us. Hopefully this year we will see a similar story and the barrel will last well into the evening. We are planning on a cold spread this year to avoid the cooking hassle. A lot of people have offered to bring salads and cakes etc. so this will be a huge effort saver.
One addition to the galley weapons this year is the all new whiz bang espresso machine. Replete with Lavazza coffee beans in the grinder we are all set to dilate everyone’s pupils. God how I love Lavazza. There are mornings when getting out the door to catch my bus to work can be severely hindered by the desire for just one more shot of Joe.
25.6.03
John Howard And The Randy Newman Connection
Poor old Oz is looking a bit grim at the moment. It is pretty much what happened in the first few years of GST in NZ but take heart, it only took them 11 years to get it back under control where it worked nicely for about three years and then collapsed again.
I´m still amazed that John Howard even went down that road given the history of NZ and Canada and thier near economic demise.
Sadly I think that the demise of Ansett, Daimaru, Pasminco and tourism are just the tip of the iceberg. With all this global warming it shouldn’t take too long before some other big chunks melt off and sink into the murky cess pool of GST reform. I guess when you’ve got squillions in the bank and invested off shore as Johnny Boy no doubt has, the issue of life quality for the average Aussie doesn’t rate a second thought.
I think that someone should start plugging request lines and get Triple JJJ to play Randy Newman’s, ´Don’t Want No Short People´, thirty times a day in the run up to the federal election. People may not vote for him in the hope that the radio may never dig the song out of its archive vaults ever again.
I´m still amazed that John Howard even went down that road given the history of NZ and Canada and thier near economic demise.
Sadly I think that the demise of Ansett, Daimaru, Pasminco and tourism are just the tip of the iceberg. With all this global warming it shouldn’t take too long before some other big chunks melt off and sink into the murky cess pool of GST reform. I guess when you’ve got squillions in the bank and invested off shore as Johnny Boy no doubt has, the issue of life quality for the average Aussie doesn’t rate a second thought.
I think that someone should start plugging request lines and get Triple JJJ to play Randy Newman’s, ´Don’t Want No Short People´, thirty times a day in the run up to the federal election. People may not vote for him in the hope that the radio may never dig the song out of its archive vaults ever again.
24.5.03
Rhine On Flame
Copied From The US Overseas Military Portal
"During the summer months, Germany offers a fascinating, unforgettable display of fire, water and light, all set in the majestic landscapes of the Rhine River. The Rhine, Europe`s busiest waterway, flows 820 miles from its source high in the Swiss Alps through Germany and northward to its North Sea outlet in The Netherlands. The Rhine has carved a beautiful 90-mile gorge from the German villages of Bingen to Bonn. This area is popular because of its splendid castles on the rocky heights of the river and its superb vineyards. Throughout the spring and summer months, villages in these areas host many wine festivals and Rhine A Flame events. During the Rhine A Flames, villages, parading ships, spectators and the river are illuminated by dramatic pyrotechnic shows. Under the colorful explosions sparkling in the sky, the towns, fortresses, palaces, and castles glow in the red light of Bengal lights (a type of firework that burns with a brilliant, sustained light) creating a ‘ burning’ effect. The Rhine A Flame festivities begin in May and last through September.
The Night of Bengal Lights at Bonn is on the first Saturday in May (5th for 2001). From Linz to Bonn, the Rhine`s historic buildings are illuminated with 2,000 red Bengal lights as a fleet of 60 ships sails along the 16-mile stretch of the river. During the weekend, each town along the way hosts celebrations from festivals on the riverbanks to music and dance programs. The Night of Magic Fire at Bingen / Rüdeshem is on the first Saturday in July (7th for 2001). Bingen, Trechtingshausen, Rüdesheim and Assmannshausen light up their castles and churches with Bengal fire. The Mouse Tower on its island in the river is illuminated, as is the Niederwald Monument and its vineyards high over Rüdesheim. Spectacular fireworks displays are launched from the castles Reichenstein and Rheinstein and the cities of Assmanshausen, Bingen and Ruesdesheim as a light parade of 50 ships sails past. Information can be obtained at Binger Loch, between Trechtingshausen, Assmannshausen, Bingen and Rudesheim.
The Rhine in Flames in Koblenz, the “Mega Night,” is on the second Saturday in August (11th for 2001). Koblenz currently claims the largest and the very first "Rhine in Flames" which took place in 1766. A fireworks show was put on in honor of the prince elector Johann Phillip von Walderdorff. The name of the show was coined in the 1920s by tourist promoters and revived after World War II. The current spectacle dates from 1956 when the Rheinland-Pfalz Tourist Office undertook the promotion. From Spay / Braubach to Koblenz, six towns along the Rhine "burn" as a flotilla of 80 ships sails past. The convoy sails 10 miles down the Rhine, past the "burning" buildings while multi-colored rockets from eight fireworks shows light up the sky. Around 30,000 people watch from the ships and another 500,000 line the shores. The high point of the evening comes when the fleet reaches the German Corner in Koblenz. Ehrenbreitstein, the enormous fortress above the convergence of the Rhine and Mosel rivers, is "set afire" with Bengal lights as a huge fireworks presentation sparkles overhead. Information can be obtained at Koblenz, Coblence.
The Night of 1,000 Fires is on the second Saturday in September (8th for 2001). Festivities are centered on Oberwesel, a town noted for its wine, and the Lorelei cliffs. Forty Rhine steamers will sail from St. Goar along the 4-mile stretch to Oberwesel. The “Symphony of Fire,” a pyrotechnic display synchronized to music, greets the flotilla as it sails past the Lorelei, the legendary rock at the deepest and narrowest point on the Rhine. The procession continues to Oberwesel, where the medieval town with its 16 towers on its ramparts will be bathed in light. Information can be obtained at Boat parade and the Oberwesel am Main website.
Lorelei Night is on the third Saturday in September (15th for 2001). The festivities focus around the sister towns of St. Goar and St. Goarshausen that face each other across the river. This is the last Rhine in Flames of the season. The "fires" illuminate their three castles, the Rheinfels, Katz and Maus. Seventy ships filled with visitors witness five big fireworks displays from the St. Goar harbor, from the Katz and Rheinfels castles and from the middle of the Rhine at each end of the convoy of ships. Information can be obtained at the St. Goar website.
Information, schedules, and maps about all of the fireworks displays on the Rhine River can be obtained by visiting the Fireworks on the Rhine River website. The exploding firecrackers and brilliant cascades of light on the Rhine River create unforgettable impressions of the most beautiful spectacle offered during Germany`s summer nights, the Rhine A Flame.
"During the summer months, Germany offers a fascinating, unforgettable display of fire, water and light, all set in the majestic landscapes of the Rhine River. The Rhine, Europe`s busiest waterway, flows 820 miles from its source high in the Swiss Alps through Germany and northward to its North Sea outlet in The Netherlands. The Rhine has carved a beautiful 90-mile gorge from the German villages of Bingen to Bonn. This area is popular because of its splendid castles on the rocky heights of the river and its superb vineyards. Throughout the spring and summer months, villages in these areas host many wine festivals and Rhine A Flame events. During the Rhine A Flames, villages, parading ships, spectators and the river are illuminated by dramatic pyrotechnic shows. Under the colorful explosions sparkling in the sky, the towns, fortresses, palaces, and castles glow in the red light of Bengal lights (a type of firework that burns with a brilliant, sustained light) creating a ‘ burning’ effect. The Rhine A Flame festivities begin in May and last through September.
The Night of Bengal Lights at Bonn is on the first Saturday in May (5th for 2001). From Linz to Bonn, the Rhine`s historic buildings are illuminated with 2,000 red Bengal lights as a fleet of 60 ships sails along the 16-mile stretch of the river. During the weekend, each town along the way hosts celebrations from festivals on the riverbanks to music and dance programs. The Night of Magic Fire at Bingen / Rüdeshem is on the first Saturday in July (7th for 2001). Bingen, Trechtingshausen, Rüdesheim and Assmannshausen light up their castles and churches with Bengal fire. The Mouse Tower on its island in the river is illuminated, as is the Niederwald Monument and its vineyards high over Rüdesheim. Spectacular fireworks displays are launched from the castles Reichenstein and Rheinstein and the cities of Assmanshausen, Bingen and Ruesdesheim as a light parade of 50 ships sails past. Information can be obtained at Binger Loch, between Trechtingshausen, Assmannshausen, Bingen and Rudesheim.
The Rhine in Flames in Koblenz, the “Mega Night,” is on the second Saturday in August (11th for 2001). Koblenz currently claims the largest and the very first "Rhine in Flames" which took place in 1766. A fireworks show was put on in honor of the prince elector Johann Phillip von Walderdorff. The name of the show was coined in the 1920s by tourist promoters and revived after World War II. The current spectacle dates from 1956 when the Rheinland-Pfalz Tourist Office undertook the promotion. From Spay / Braubach to Koblenz, six towns along the Rhine "burn" as a flotilla of 80 ships sails past. The convoy sails 10 miles down the Rhine, past the "burning" buildings while multi-colored rockets from eight fireworks shows light up the sky. Around 30,000 people watch from the ships and another 500,000 line the shores. The high point of the evening comes when the fleet reaches the German Corner in Koblenz. Ehrenbreitstein, the enormous fortress above the convergence of the Rhine and Mosel rivers, is "set afire" with Bengal lights as a huge fireworks presentation sparkles overhead. Information can be obtained at Koblenz, Coblence.
The Night of 1,000 Fires is on the second Saturday in September (8th for 2001). Festivities are centered on Oberwesel, a town noted for its wine, and the Lorelei cliffs. Forty Rhine steamers will sail from St. Goar along the 4-mile stretch to Oberwesel. The “Symphony of Fire,” a pyrotechnic display synchronized to music, greets the flotilla as it sails past the Lorelei, the legendary rock at the deepest and narrowest point on the Rhine. The procession continues to Oberwesel, where the medieval town with its 16 towers on its ramparts will be bathed in light. Information can be obtained at Boat parade and the Oberwesel am Main website.
Lorelei Night is on the third Saturday in September (15th for 2001). The festivities focus around the sister towns of St. Goar and St. Goarshausen that face each other across the river. This is the last Rhine in Flames of the season. The "fires" illuminate their three castles, the Rheinfels, Katz and Maus. Seventy ships filled with visitors witness five big fireworks displays from the St. Goar harbor, from the Katz and Rheinfels castles and from the middle of the Rhine at each end of the convoy of ships. Information can be obtained at the St. Goar website.
Information, schedules, and maps about all of the fireworks displays on the Rhine River can be obtained by visiting the Fireworks on the Rhine River website. The exploding firecrackers and brilliant cascades of light on the Rhine River create unforgettable impressions of the most beautiful spectacle offered during Germany`s summer nights, the Rhine A Flame.
30.4.03
Bush Humour
Some humorous comments that I have overheard in the last month include comments relating to corporate fraud in America.
· In relation to the WorldCom accounting scandal, “ I wonder how it feels to one day be the CEO of the worlds largest telephone company and the next day to only being allowed one phone call!”
· In relation to Dubbya’s stance on congressional laws against corporate fraud, “ From now on whenever you buy a senator you will have to get a receipt.”
“Dick Cheney the Vice President has said in a recent speech to congress that he will do what ever it takes to fight corporate crime in America and to prove the point he finished the speech by punching himself in the head.”
· In relation to the WorldCom accounting scandal, “ I wonder how it feels to one day be the CEO of the worlds largest telephone company and the next day to only being allowed one phone call!”
· In relation to Dubbya’s stance on congressional laws against corporate fraud, “ From now on whenever you buy a senator you will have to get a receipt.”
“Dick Cheney the Vice President has said in a recent speech to congress that he will do what ever it takes to fight corporate crime in America and to prove the point he finished the speech by punching himself in the head.”
29.4.03
Drifting Into Spring
The seasonal tables are slowly turning are they not ? As we drift slowly out of Winter, we here are seeing the beginnings of quite an early Spring or Frühlings. A large number of our fruit trees in the garden are a mass of white blossoms accompanied by the crocus and daffodil blooms.
They have a name for cowslip over here which is Schlüsselblume, Schlüssel being a key and blüme for bloom. More simply the key bloom and it is known as such as it heralds in the beginning of Spring and is usually the first to flower.
The weather has been extraordinarily wonderful of late with mild days in the high teens and lots of sunny spots permeating through the scattered banks of clouds to warm away the ice fingers of the Winter past. As the ground slowly defrosts from the permafrost set deep down in the earth, the water table rises and seeps through to the surface where it moistens and sustains the bulbs and roots of the Spring flowers and the fruit trees in bloom.
The local neighbourhood is currently a riot of white, pink and purple blossoms as well as the yellows, blues and lavender of the ground dwelling plants.
They have a name for cowslip over here which is Schlüsselblume, Schlüssel being a key and blüme for bloom. More simply the key bloom and it is known as such as it heralds in the beginning of Spring and is usually the first to flower.
The weather has been extraordinarily wonderful of late with mild days in the high teens and lots of sunny spots permeating through the scattered banks of clouds to warm away the ice fingers of the Winter past. As the ground slowly defrosts from the permafrost set deep down in the earth, the water table rises and seeps through to the surface where it moistens and sustains the bulbs and roots of the Spring flowers and the fruit trees in bloom.
The local neighbourhood is currently a riot of white, pink and purple blossoms as well as the yellows, blues and lavender of the ground dwelling plants.